


Unexpected

by Fenix21



Series: Everything Because I Love You [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A/O Dynamics, Difficult Pregnancy, Knotting, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg!Sam, Porn, Swearing, graphic birth, graphic?? wolf birth, mention of stillbirth, sex or die, sick!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3419147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenix21/pseuds/Fenix21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean decided after their last healthy litter that their family was large enough. </p><p>Fate, it seemed, had other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sudden Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam goes into a sudden, painful heat that Dean is forced to take care of on the fly.

Dean could tell something was wrong the second Sam slid into the passenger seat.

The air was…off. Sam smelled…not wrong, but not like he should. Not to mention he had actually called Dean to come pick him up early from the office.

Now that Belle and Thane and Neal were in school, Sam had decided to put that law degree of his to work. He was still just a junior partner in the local firm in town which usually didn’t cover much more than land survey disputes and writing up wills and trust documents, but it was a place to start and it gave Sam something to do now that his pups were grown and leaving the nest, so to speak. The extra income left Dean free to work at just the garage, too, during the week instead of trying to hold down the two jobs he’d had for several years, though he still helped out at the bar on the occasional weekend when Bain needed some time off, which was a little more frequently now with the birth of his and Amy’s first litter a month ago.

Dean gave Sam a once over before pulling away from the curb. “Sam, everything okay?”

Sam shifted uncomfortably in the seat and pinched at the bridge of his nose like he had a headache. “I’m not sure.”

Dean watched him out of the corner of his eye. “You haven’t been sleeping too well, lately.” Sam just shrugged. “I’ll tell you what,” Dean offered. “I’ll take you home, put you in a hot bath while I fix us some dinner, get the kids into bed, and we’ll make an early night of it. Just you and me. Sound good?”

Sam nodded distractedly. “Yeah, sounds—guh!” 

Sam hissed a sudden pained breath, doubling over and pressing a broad palm to his belly.

“Sam?” Dean grabbed his shoulder in alarm.

“Cramp,” Sam gasped.

The air in the car was suddenly heavy with that ‘off’ scent coming from Sam. Dean was reacting to it, dick twitching eagerly in his jeans, but his adrenaline was also pumping, like something was about to go very wrong.

Sam whimpered and curled in tighter on himself, grabbing at the dash. “Jesus, Dean, I-I….” He groaned low and hard and then Dean could smell it—thick and musky and flowing. Sam’s slick. His eyes went wide.

“Fuck, Sam. Are you…in heat?”

Sam dragged in a labored breath. “I think—I don’t know! It’s not right, Dean. Not the right time, and —.” He doubled over further with another sharp cramp. “This hurts. God, Dean! It’s never hurt like this before!”

He looked over at Dean, eyes glassy with heat fever and glazed over in pain. “Dean, I need you—need you to….”

Dean squeezed the back of Sam’s neck in reassurance. His body was in full response mode now, dick rock hard and throbbing in his pants, knot already starting to swell. He always reacted to Sam fast, with little or no prompting, but this was almost painful and there was an urgency in his gut born of more than just the desire to bury himself to the hilt in Sam’s tight ass. The adrenaline kick wasn’t fading and the need to get inside Sam— _right the fuck now_ —was pounding through his blood like he might die if he didn’t.

Honestly, it didn’t look like Sam was in much better shape, and Dean was starting to get a little freaked.

“We’ll be home in twenty minutes,” he said, trying to keep the growl of need out of his voice. “I promise, I’ll knot you so hard you can’t see straight.”

He tried to smirk, tried to tease to get Sam to relax, but he didn’t get so much as a derisive snort from the other side of the car.

“Dean, I can’t—can’t wait,” Sam gasped. He jerked at his pants, ripping down the zipper and thrusting his hand inside, down past his thick cock, and Dean could tell by the way his legs spread and he scooted low in the seat, shoulders slamming back while he whined desperately, that he was working himself open.

“Fuck!” Dean bit out savagely as he nearly lost control of the car. “Okay, Sammy, okay. If you’re gonna be doin’ _that_ over there, then neither of us are gonna make it home.”

He scanned for a spot to pull off and took advantage of an abandoned strip mall, pulling around back where the building and overgrown hedge would mostly hide them from prying eyes. He slammed the Impala out of gear, killed the engine, and scrambled across the seat, wedging a knee between his brother’s quivering thighs. He grabbed Sam’s face in his hands, forcing him to look Dean in the eye.

“Sammy, what do you need? Tell me what you need.” Dean’s heart was hammering. Sam was whimpering now, keening in pain, and every instinct Dean had as his Alpha screamed for him to make it stop, to find what was hurting his Omega and kill it dead.

“I need you in me, Dean. Now. Please! I need your knot inside me.”  Sam’s hand was working hard in the confines of his pants, and Dean could smell his slick. His mouth went dry with wanting to lap it up, and his dick jerked and wept cum until his jeans were wet with it.

“Okay, baby boy. Okay. Can you get in the backseat?”

Sam shook his head frantically. “No…Dean, need it _right_ now.” He spasmed suddenly, doubling up again, fist locking against his tense belly. He huffed short, pain filled breaths. “Dean, it feels like—like I’m dying!”

Ice shot down Dean’s spine.

He’d never seen this before, not like this. He’d seen Omegas go insane and even die because they had no Alpha to sate their need, and Sam’s first heat had set in fast and been pretty uncomfortable, but he’d never seen it happen this fast, and he had no idea if Sam was right or not—that he was dying—but Dean wasn’t taking the chance.

He grabbed Sam’s thighs and swiveled him in the seat, making short work of getting his pants off while he still frantically worked himself open. Dean jerked at his own jeans, moaning hard when his cock bobbed free. He cupped Sam’s hand, gliding his own fingers up and in alongside Sam’s. Sam cried out sharply, arching into Dean’s hand and gushing more slick.

Sam grappled at Dean’s shoulder, fingers clawing in and leaving bruises. He panted. “Now. Dean. Need it now!”

Dean continued to let their fingers slide together. “Shhh, baby, got to get you open first—.”

“No!” Sam bit out, eyes wild and feral with need. “Now!”

“Sam, you are so fucking tight, baby boy. If I don’t open you up more, I’m gonna hurt you.”

Sam froze, pressed his palms hard against his belly and looked up at Dean, his eyes scarily sharp and clear for a fraction of a second.

“Dean, if you don’t knot me— _now—_ I am going to die.”

Dean’s heart slammed hard in his chest, stumbled, and then geared up a notch at the deadly serious tone in Sam’s voice. Against his better judgment he jerked his jeans down a little further and slid forward between Sam’s thighs, slotting his swelling knot between Sam’s cheeks and pushing hard against his tight hole.

Sam collapsed back into a shivering, crying, writhing mess, begging in broken syllables for Dean to knot him. Dean took hold of Sam’s hips and then pressed forward, slow and steady.

Sam hissed in pain, tensing up, crying and gasping as Dean breached him, stretching him open and pushing deeper. Dean groaned, letting out a hiss of his own as Sam’s tight swollen passage closed around him, spasming, and squeezing down painfully on Dean’s cock.

He pushed in inch by slow inch, but he was so full and Sam was so tight that is was nearly excruciating to finally seat himself flush with Sam’s ass and moving was out of the question.

Sam was still gasping, face contorted in pain, panting high and light and it was escalating to a series of short, sharp cries as he rolled his hips, trying to take Dean even deeper.

“Shit! Sammy, don’t—move! I can’t—.” Dean clawed at Sam’s hip to halt his brother’s rolling that was tugging painfully on his fully inflated knot. “God, Sam…if you don’t stop, I’m gonna….”

And then Sam screamed.

It wasn’t out of pleasure, and it made Dean’s blood run cold even as his knot suddenly popped with such force that his vision went grey and blurry. Sam slammed against him, shoulders rolling up off the seat, hands clutching at his belly. He kept screaming with his orgasm while it tore through his body like he’d touched a high voltage wire.

When it was over, Sam collapsed back into the seat, sobbing, hands still spread over his now distended belly where Dean had pumped him full of what he was positive was the single biggest load he’d ever shot. Dean shifted and wiggled and rolled until he had Sam crushed to his chest and enveloped in his arms, cradling him while he continued to sob.

“Sammy,” Dean whispered, brushing gently at his brother’s sweat damp hair. “You okay, now? How ya doing?”

For a few minutes, Sam could only tremble and cry and mouth soundlessly against Dean’s chest. Dean tucked him even closer.

“Jesus, Sammy, you scared the shit out of me there. You have got to tell me if you’re okay, baby boy. Come on, now.”

“Dean, I—I don’t know what that was,” Sam finally whispered, clutching at Dean’s shirt front like he was afraid he’d be pulled away by the aftershocks of whatever had just transpired between them. “I’ve never felt anything so powerful. Ever. God…. Dean, I really thought I was going to die.”

That revelation caused more tears, and Dean shushed him and kissed his brow and murmured to him and held him even tighter.  “I’m not gonna let that happen, Sam. Not ever,” Dean promised. “Now, you just rest a few minutes, and we’ll take you home and get you taken care of right, okay?”

Sam was quiet for a long contemplative minute before he lifted his head a little, brow knit in confusion. “I don’t…I don’t think I need any more, Dean.”

Dean pulled back. “What?”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t get it. It’s like it’s just…gone. Like it was so intense that it just all burned out at once.”

“Oh.” Dean tried to sound a little disappointed, but honestly he was relieved. He was drained. His body almost ached from the incredible force of that release and his dick actually hurt. His knot was softening and sliding from Sam as they were speaking, and he was grateful for it. He felt like he needed a bed and twelve hours of sleep. He could only imagine what Sam felt like.

“Dean, I—.” Sam’s voice quavered like he was afraid he’d hurt Dean.

Dean gave him a tender kiss, brushing their lips together softly. “Hey, hey. It’s okay,” he crooned. “I’m good. As long as you’re okay, Sam, then I’m good.” Sam nodded tiredly. “Okay then, let’s…let’s get you back together and get you home to bed. You’re exhausted.”

——

Sam didn’t hardly make it out of the parking lot before he was asleep against the car window. Dean woke him up enough to get him on his feet and upstairs to their bedroom when they got home, and then he was immediately asleep again when his head hit the pillow. 

Dean called Gail and begged a favor, asking if she could come keep an eye on the kids tonight because Sam wasn’t feeling well and needed him. She agreed before he even finished asking.

Dean laid down with Sam and watched him sleep, still worried and confused about what had happened this afternoon. His gaze swept up and down his brother’s long body, coming to rest on his still slightly distended belly. Sam’s broad hand was subconsciously cupping the swell, and Dean reached over and palmed it gently, lovingly.

They had decided after Sam’s last healthy litter of four, that their family was big enough, so in the heats that followed they were careful not to get Sam pregnant. This one had come on so fast and forceful, though, that neither of them had thought anything about protection. Dean knew the swell under his palm was just the aftermath of their frantic knotting and by morning it would be gone, but deep down he almost hoped that swell would return in a few weeks time in the form of another litter growing in Sam’s belly.

Dean in no way felt his life was missing anything, and he was happier than he could ever express with his family just exactly like it was, but he couldn’t help the tiny spark of hope that he felt as he thought about Sam being pregnant again with another litter of pups.

He pressed his hand a little more firmly against Sam’s belly, and Sam moaned in response, stirring a little in his sleep. Dean shifted on the bed to curve himself around his brother, still keeping his hand on the gentle swell, and he slowly drifted to sleep with a hopeful smile on his lips.


	2. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's sudden heat results in a pregnancy...he thinks.

Sam scrambled out of bed and lurched for the bathroom, just barely getting himself braced on the edge of the toilet bowl before his stomach violently emptied itself of everything he’d eaten the night before.

“Sammy?”

Dean was right behind his brother, stumbling over his own feet getting to the bathroom in his pseudo state of wakefulness, bending over Sam to steady him and rub a soothing hand between his shoulder blades. Sam shuddered, gagged, and then dry-heaved one last time before he felt safe in sitting back on his heels. He was panting, pale and clammy, and lightheaded.

“Jesus, Sammy….” Dean swabbed gently at Sam’s sweaty face and neck with a cool cloth and then gathered him close under his shoulder and held him while his shaking subsided. “You okay, now?”

Sam made a noncommittal sound in his throat. He tipped his head back against Dean’s shoulder, and Dean didn’t miss how he was rubbing tiny circles against his belly without seeming to realize it.

“Dean, this is the third morning in a row this has happened, and I haven’t felt well all week. I think maybe….” He cast his eyes downward, finally taking notice where his hand was resting.

Dean smiled gently and covered his brother’s hand. “I think so, too.”

“You’re not upset?” Sam asked, looking up from under his lashes.

“No!” Dean frowned. “Why would I be? Are you?”

Sam was a little slower to respond.

“Sammy?”

“No. No, I’m not upset.” Sam shifted a little against Dean’s side, settling his hand more solidly over his middle where Dean could already detect the beginnings of a soft swelling. “It just doesn’t….” He paused, trying to find the right words. “It doesn’t feel…right.”

Dean gave Sam’s shoulder a little squeeze. “Don’t worry, Sam. It’s right, and it’s fine. We can handle it.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Sam pressed his palm tentatively against his belly, frowning slightly. “The way it happened, Dean—that awful heat—and I’ve never been _this_ sick before….”

“Sam, it’ll be fine. Every time is different. We’ll get through it. I’ll take care of you.” Dean kissed Sam’s temple, brushing aside sweat damp curls. “All of you.”

Sam gave a little sigh and settled deeper into Dean’s embrace. “I know you will.” 

——

One week passed, and then two, and Sam continued to wake up sick. In fact, it was an event if he wasn’t violently ill within five minutes of opening his eyes. He never really recovered during the day either, feeling exhausted and achy most of the time. Dean was starting to be a little concerned that Sam was right and something about this pregnancy was not right.

He came up to their bedroom one afternoon after settling the kids down to their homework and found Sam standing in front of the mirror with his shirt rucked up around his ribs, examining his profile with a worried frown.

Dean came up behind him slowly and wrapped his arms around him, placing a soft kiss behind Sam’s ear and spreading his hands over the gentle swell of his belly.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be resting.”

“I couldn’t sleep, “Sam said, eyes zeroing in on the reflection of Dean’s hands gently caressing his belly in the mirror. “Dean, I’m worried. I can’t…. I can’t feel them.”

Dean stilled and met Sam’s gaze in the mirror. “Not at all?”

Sam shook his head, eyes growing wet with worried tears. He pulled the corner of his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’ve been reading, Dean. A-About heats that produce all the symptoms of pregnancy, but there really isn’t one, a-and it all goes away in a few weeks.” He bit down on his lip, hard enough that it split, and a tiny whimper came up out of his throat. “Dean, do you think…that’s what this is?”

Dean’s heart twisted and his stomach dropped, leaving him a little nauseous and near tears himself. Planned or not, Dean had gotten used to the idea of Sam being pregnant and giving them another littler of pups to love, and to have that ripped away by some cruel trick of biological science, left him breathless.

He cleared his throat a little, trying got get past the lump there. “It’s been…five weeks? H-How long did it, uh—how long until you’d know if you weren’t…?”

Sam turned in Dean’s arms, burying his face in the curve of his brother’s throat and clinging to him with arms wrapped around his neck. His voice was broken and raspy when he answered,

“A-About five weeks, they said. About…now.”

Sam’s shoulders trembled, and Dean could tell he was trying so hard not to cry, but Dean felt like crying himself, so he couldn’t blame him. He rubbed his hands up and down Sam’s back in an effort to soothe himself as much as his brother.

“Hey, hey, don’t give up hope yet, okay? We’ll call Gail tomorrow and see what she thinks. How does that sound?”

Sam’s arms tightened and he took an unsteady breath. “I don’t think…I _want_ to know, Dean.”

Dean pressed another kiss to Sam’s jaw. “I know you don’t, but don’t you think it would be best? If it’s not…real,” he nearly choked on the word, “then we have to figure out what to do to get you better because you’re still getting sick even if…. And you can’t keep that up.” Sam nodded reluctantly. Dean gave him a quick, fierce squeeze and then pulled back a little. “Okay. Now, I want you to go over to that bed and lay down and rest before dinner, so you feel like coming down tonight. The kids are worried and miss you.”

Sam nodded again, a little more determinedly, and Dean tucked him under a light blanket before going back downstairs to start dinner.

 

Sam garnered enough energy from his nap to sit down at the table with his family that evening for dinner, but his nerves were so frayed that he could only manage to pick at his food.

Grace, who was sitting at Sam’s side and ignoring the antics of her younger siblings, set her fork down very deliberately and turned her brilliant green gaze on him. “Papa, is everything all right?”

She spoke quietly, so as not to draw attention, and Sam was grateful for that. He gave her a weak smile and reached out a hand to clasp hers under the table edge.

“Everything’s fine, sweetheart. I just haven’t been feeling very well the last few weeks, but I’ll be okay. It’s going to get better.”

Grace scowled a little. “I’m not dumb, Papa. I can see what’s going on.”

Sam lifted an eyebrow at her tone, just skating the edge of belligerent so he couldn’t fairly call her on it. “And just what do you think is going on, young lady?”

“You’re pregnant, of course.”

Sam felt the color drain from his face, and from the corner of his eye he knew Dean saw, and he lifted a subtle hand to tell him everything was all right, then turned his attention back to his eldest daughter.

“Have you said anything to your brothers and sisters?”

“Chance has it figured out, too.” Grace shrugged. “But, no, we haven’t said anything.”

Sam breathed an unconscious sigh of relief. “Good. Don’t.”

Grace frowned. “Why?”

Sam dropped his gaze to hide the sudden rush of tears. “We’re not sure it took,” he whispered.

Both of Grace’s hands were suddenly around his and holding tight. He glanced up to see her face transformed into a look of sympathy. She was much too perceptive for her age , and her instinct to cure, to fix, to make better, was as strong as Dean’s or stronger. It was little wonder she presented as an Alpha last year.

“It’ll be all right, Gigi. Either way,” Sam assured her quietly.

“Sam?”

Dean had come down the table without Sam noticing and had his hands settled protectively on Sam’s shoulders. It hurt Sam to think that the subtle act might be a precursor to the head-butting difficulties Dean was going to have in just a few short years with his two oldest children.

Sam reached up and squeezed his hand. “I’m fine. Just…tired. Maybe I’ll go sit in the den for a bit and read?”

Dean nodded and helped Sam stand. When he was out of the room, Dean nailed his daughter with a severe look.

“You keep this to yourself, Gigi. Your father’s hurting enough. He isn’t going to need to deal with everyone else’s disappointment, too, if this doesn’t work out.”

Grace returned her father’s gaze without a flinch. “I’d say he’s not the only one hurting.”

The words hung in the charged air between them until Grace sighed and stood up. “Dad, I know how to keep my mouth shut. I’m just worried. Just like you.”

Dean sighed heavily, tension suddenly flooding out of him and leaving him sagging. He pulled Grace into a quick, hard hug.

“I know, baby girl. I know you do, and I’m sorry for snapping. It just…. You’re right. I hurt, too.”

Grace hugged her father back and gave him a firm kiss on the cheek. “It’ll be okay, Dad. It will.”

Dean nodded, mussed her hair gently, and put a thumb over his shoulder. “Keep an eye on this bunch, huh?”

Grace grinned. “Sure thing, Dad.”

Dean found Sam curled on his side on the couch, his head pillowed on one folded arm, his other hand curved over his belly. His eyes were closed like he was concentrating or listening for something. Dean sank down by the couch, legs crossed, and watched in silence, letting Sam have the quiet he needed to try and find the pups’ movement inside him that would provide the strength and reassurance he needed so desperately right now.

Dean’s eyes had started to sink closed when he heard a soft ‘whuff’ of air at his ear and felt a cold nose press into his shoulder. He reached up and scratched his son behind the ears.

“Hey, Beau. Haven’t seen you all day. Where you been?”

Dean slipped his hand into the thick fur at Beau’s throat and curled his fingers up under the wolf’s big jaws. A flash of wide open grass and endless blue sky flickered across Dean’s mind and then a glassy lake, and shiver of cold rippled over his skin. 

He looked into Beau’s deep blue eyes. “You know I feel better when you stick to the forests, but at least you got a bath.”

Beau’s tongue lolled out for a moment and Dean swore he was grinning. He tilted his head for Dean to scratch his ears again and his dark, intelligent eyes flicked from Dean to Sam and back again.

“He’s okay,” Dean reassured. “Just tired and worried.”

Beau inched closer, pressing harder into Dean’s hand. He didn’t communicate with words and no one was sure how much human language he actually understood, but he always made himself clear nonetheless. He dipped his head now and pressed his nose against the back of Sam’s wrist and licked slow and gentle at Sam’s fingers until his other father opened his eyes and smiled sleepily at him.

“Hey, Beau….” Sam mimicked Dean’s action of delving deep in Beau’s fur and letting him show Sam the clear, clean lake where he’d taken a swim, and catch a whiff of the snow that was starting to fall up on the highest peaks of the mountains.

Sam smiled at his son. “It’s beautiful, Beau.” The wolf keened once, lightly, and set his chin on Sam’s hip. “Yeah, I wish I could go with you, too.” He grazed his hand back over his rounded middle. “But I just don’t have the energy right now. Might not for a while…hopefully.”

Beau made an inquisitive sound in his throat and then stuck his cold nose under the hem of Sam’s shirt and pushed it out of the way. 

“Hey, Beau….” Dean reached to pull the big wolf back, but the curiously astonished look on Sam’s face stopped him. “Sam?”

Beau nosed at his father’s belly, keening softly—not like he was in pain—but like he did when one of his young siblings had taken a tumble and he was trying to comfort them. He lapped at the swell with soft, tender strokes of his tongue that almost tickled, making Sam tremble a little, until Dean had the urge to swat his son’s nose away in jealousy at the intimate contact.

Sam stroked Beau’s head as he continued to lap and nose at his belly almost like he was looking for something lost, or coaxing something to let itself be found. He finally let out an odd little chortle that he only made when he was very happy, and Sam gasped in shock.

“Sam?” Dean asked again, fingers tightening in Beau’s scruff to jerk him back at the slightest word.

Sam’s eyes were wide and his hand was pressed tight to the curve of his belly again. “Oh my God, Dean….”

“Sam, what is it?”

“I can… _feel_ it,” Sam breathed, shifting his hand a little. “Dean, I can feel it!”

Dean lurched up onto his knees, hand going to cover Sam’s. “Really?”

“Yes!” Sam nodded vigorously, eyes alight with joy.

Dean felt lightheaded with relief, breath coming shallow and a little ragged. He kissed Sam hard, fingers pushing roughly into his hair. “Sammy, that’s great. So great. God…I’m so glad.”

He pressed their foreheads together and focused on trying to steady his breathing, to calm his racing heart. Beau shifted, leaning into Dean’s hip and made a throaty whuffle that sounded very much like a laugh.

Sam grabbed Beau around the neck and buried his face in his son’s soft fur. “You’re amazing, Beau. Amazing. Thank you so much.”

“Do you think…? Do you think he knew?” Dean asked, eyeing his son curiously as he continued to nudge at Sam’s belly and make soft comforting humming noises. 

Sam leaned back, stroking Beau’s head slowly and letting him continue his ministrations. Dean leaned up over the edge of the couch, curving an arm around Sam’s back and letting him rest his head in the crook of Dean’s shoulder.

“He must have.” Sam sighed contentedly, looking relaxed for the first time in days. He was smiling, vying Beau for space against his belly as he kept his hand cupped there, reveling in the feel of life inside him.

“Can you tell how many?” Dean asked shyly.

Sam smiled. “Already picturing how big I’m going to be?”

Dean colored a little, but scowled. “No! I was just…wondering.”

Sam stretched up to kiss his brother’s jaw, then turned his focus inward, frowning slightly after a moment.

“Sam?” Dean felt worry creeping back over him.

“One,” Sam finally said. “Just one. It’s so…small, Dean. So tiny….” He looked up, and it nearly broke Dean’s heart to see the fear seeping back into Sam’s eyes and damping the joy that had been there a moment ago. “Maybe that’s why I was having such trouble feeling anything?”

“Maybe.” Dean kissed his brow, smoothed his hair. “But it’s all right now. Thanks to our nosy son,” Dean smiled and scratched Beau roughly under the chin, eliciting a happy growl-groan, “we know that our family really is going to get bigger, and that’s good. That’s all we need. One or ten, Sam. It makes no difference. We’ll love them just as much.”

Sam smiled a little at Dean’s reassurance and settle back against him. “Yes. We will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Female dogs can experience a 'pseudo pregnancy' after an unproductive heat.


	3. Sudden Impact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gives birth to his pup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beyond some research and videos, I have zero experience with animals giving birth, so I apologize up front for any 'wtf THAT would NEVER happen' errors that might be in this.

Weeks passed, drifting into months. Sam’s belly grew, but not very big, and he never escaped the morning sickness and exhaustion. In fact, it got worse. By the time he reached the last months of his pregnancy, Sam was pretty much sleeping the majority of the day and had foregone work at the office completely and most of the daily household tasks because they left him weak, dizzy, and winded. He barely had the energy to eat and had actually lost weight instead of gaining any. Dean was worried but didn’t voice it and just picked up and filled in all the spaces Sam had to leave vacant.

Beau stayed close, making his daily excursions shorter and shorter until he was only making a few turns around their property and then spending most of the day indoors at Sam’s side, especially when Dean couldn’t be there.

At night Sam slept sandwiched between Dean at his back who kept a protective arm slung across him and curved over his small belly, and Beau who stayed awake all night, curled against Sam’s legs and occasionally lifting his head to nudge or lick or nose softly at Sam’s belly for reasons of his own. Dean sometimes chaffed at the new sleeping arrangements because they curtailed any intimacy between him and Sam, but Sam was too tired and sick to respond to any flicker of desire he might feel anyway, so Dean let it go without a complaint.

John stopped by often, especially toward the end, and made sure to take hunts that wouldn’t take him far from his youngest son. He and Dean would talk in hushed whispers on the porch after dinner the nights John came over, about how weak Sam was getting and how much this pregnancy reminded John of Mary’s last one. The one she had not survived. Dean would cut him off then, refusing to even consider the possibility that Sam would not be strong enough to give birth to this pup despite his current poor health.

“Son, I’m not saying it’s going to happen—.”

“Because it’s not,” Dean said flatly. His fingers curled around the railing until his knuckles turned white.

Sam had excused himself early from dinner and had to ask Dean to help him up the stairs where he laid down and was almost immediately asleep. Dean’s heart was in his throat looking down at Sam’s too thin limbs, his too pale, nearly translucent skin, his too small belly bulging prominently above hip bones that had become too sharp and below ribs Dean could count through Sam’s t-shirt now.

John put a hand on his eldest son’s shoulder. “Sam’s going to be okay, Dean. He’s a strong boy—man,” he corrected himself. “Look how far he’s come and everything he’s done to get here. Both of you have.”

“Yeah,” Dean choked out. “Yeah, it’s gonna be okay.” 

He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.

John gave a definitive nod of agreement and squeezed his son’s shoulder. “You call me if you need me.”

Dean went back inside after his father drove off into the dark, wrangled his three youngest through baths and into bed, helped Chance with a geometry problem and some advice on asking out the head cheerleader to the upcoming school dance, and read lines with Grace for her role in the school play.

It was past ten o’clock by the time Dean trudged up stairs to find Beau posted, big head resting on crossed paws, outside his and Sam’s bedroom door. He squatted to give his son a good rub down.

“You can’t keep this up, you know,” Dean said softly. “You’re going to get cabin fever.”

Beau gave a low whine but didn’t move, Dean cradled his jaw for a moment, taking in the flash images of Sam sleeping fitfully, Sam pale and gasping just from his exertions taking a shower, Sam sitting by the window stroking the compact roundness of his belly, brow lined with worry. Under the images Dean could feel his son’s distress, his want to fix, but his inability to understand how.

Dean bent and kissed the top of his head. “You just keep doing what you’re doing, Beau. We both will. Sam’ll be all right. He will.”

He stood and patted his thigh. “You coming?” Beau lifted his head, looked into the room with longing but laid back down without moving further. Dean lifted a brow. “Everything okay, son?”

Beau rolled his eyes away, and Dean knew then that his son was trying to give his fathers some much needed alone time. Dean smiled.

“You’re out for the evening, then. Got it?” Dean said. Beau just settled his head further into his paws. Dean gave him a final pat and then closed the door behind him.

He changed as quietly as possible and crawled under the covers with Sam, facing him. Sam stirred a little, never opened his eyes, but spoke in a tired whisper,

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean touched his brother’s cheeks, stroking back a few stray stands of hair. “Shhh, I got it. Though, I’m pretty sure our son is a lot smarter than me at math.”

“I’m sure you did fine.” Sam smiled. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“Sam, don’t go there,” Dean warned huskily.

Sam tucked his head down, butting it up under Dean’s chin lightly. “I’m sorry for…everything. For this happening, for being so sick, for leaving you to take of everything and the kids, and—.”

“Sam. Stop.” Dean pulled him close, tucked him up. “I am not sorry for any of it. _None_ of it. Do you understand?”

“I-I know, but we didn’t plan this, and for there to be only one pup, Dean—.”

Dean tipped Sam’s head up. “One or ten, Sammy, I told you—it makes no difference.”

He settled his palm against the swell of Sam’s belly, feeling the quiet movement inside him. “I love this pup, and I love _you_.”

“God…Dean, I love you, too! So much….”

Dean’s heart turned over in his chest, because whether Sam meant it to or not, the words sounded too much like he was afraid it was the last chance he’d have to say them. Too much like he was saying good-bye.

——

A sharp hiss of pain and a choked whimper woke Dean up well after midnight when the darkness outside was turning from deep blue to dead black.

“Sam?” Dean leaned up on an elbow, rubbing at his bleary eyes when he realized Sam was no longer in their bed. “Sam!”

“I’m…here, Dean.”

Sam’s voice sounded tight and full of pain. Dean’s searching eyes found him in the rocking chair in the far corner in the shadows. He rolled out of bed and dropped down beside him.

“Sam, what’s wrong? What are you doing over here?”

Sam’s hands were pressed to the sides of his belly and Dean didn’t have to hear the low, pained keening in Sam’s throat or smell the fear rolling off of him to know that something was not right.

“Dean, I—.” Sam flinched, huffing through a sharp pain that made his fingers hook against his belly. “I’m having contractions.”

Dean blew out a breath. “How long?”

“Couple of hours.”

Dean swore softly and leaned forward to put his hand next to Sam’s, feeling the sharp tightening of muscles that caused Sam to gasp and cry out softly. “Steady?”

“Yeah. Almost from the beginning, and they’re sharp. I’ve never felt anything like it. Dean? It…oh…ow!” Sam clutched at the arm of the chair. “Dean, it hurts!”

Dean’s heart clenched. Sam wasn’t one to give into pain, and to see him crumble so soon sent a shock of fear through Dean’s veins.

There was another issue, too.

“Sammy, isn’t it too…early?”

Sam nodded jerkily, already caught up in another pain that had him rolling his hips up out of the chair in some futile escape attempt. He collapsed back at the end of it, panting and crying.

“This isn’t right, Dean. Please…please make it stop. God, it hurts so bad!”

Sam had never begged before, and it scared the hell out of Dean. He leaned up and cupped Sam’s face, holding his gaze, and infusing his next words with a confidence that he didn’t really feel. 

“Sam, it’s going to be all right, okay? We’re going to get through this just like we always do, baby boy. I promise. Now, breathe easy for me and don’t fight it. Just let it happen.”

——

The trouble was, nothing happened. 

Sam continued to labor hard, but the pup gave no sign of making an appearance. Dean sat, walked, and lay with Sam, whispering reassurances like a tape stuck on loop, coaxing him to breathe steadily, massaging his tense and aching muscles, and stroking his clenching belly through contraction after unproductive contraction.

Outside the door Dean could hear Beau keening and whining, claws occasionally scrabbling at the space under the door like he needed to come inside to see Sam and be sure he was all right. He almost considered letting him in, wondering if that odd connection their son seemed to have to the unborn pup might help coax it from Sam’s womb; but Sam didn’t want that when Dean suggested it, and Dean wasn’t surprised. Sam wouldn’t want to scare their children by letting them see him in this condition.

As morning crept in through the curtains and the house started wake, Sam’s labor had not progressed any further beyond steady, sharp contractions. He felt no urge to push and the pup was not dropping down to engage in his pelvis. He was already exhausted and dehydrating despite Dean’s best efforts to avoid it. He couldn’t sleep for the constant, spasming pain that seemed to take him by surprise with its severity no matter how he tried to anticipate it. All he could do was moan and cry out and shift endlessly in Dean’s arms, trying to escape the pain or at least find a way to use it.

A sharp bark and a low growl from the hall caught Dean’s attention.

“Daddy!” a thin, quavering wail came through the door.

Dean swore sharply and lurched toward the door without thinking. He paused for the space of a heartbeat, but Sam gave him a shove.

“Go.”

He dropped a quick kiss to Sam’s brow and brushed back his hair. “Be right back, baby boy.”

Sam nodded, too caught up in another contraction to voice any response, wrapped his arms around his middle and rolled away to cry himself through the pain.

Dean scrubbed at his face, knowing he must look haggard and worn himself, but there was no helping it. He jerked open the door and was shocked at the scene that met him.

Beau was crouched and snarling, teeth bared at Chance and Grace who were at the top of the stairs, shielding Belle behind them. Belle was crying and shaking, not understanding why her brother was acting so strangely.

“Beau!” Dean snapped.

Beau swung his head around with a sharp bark and lunged for the now open door. Dean barely had time to yank it closed and put his hip out to throw off Beau’s charge, and father and son went tumbling and skidding into the wall across the hall.

“Dad!” 

Chance lunged, grabbing Beau around the neck from behind and locking his big head and snapping jaws in a half-Nelson type move.

Dean rolled away from Beau’s scrabbling claws and grabbed his son’s head.

“Beau. Beau! Stop!”

A tumult of images crashed through Dean’s head, all of them of Sam, strung together by pain and screams and blood. Dean fell back against the wall, staring into his son’s feral gaze. Beau stilled in Chance’s grip and started to whine low and long.

“Dean! Dean!”

Sam’s terrified cry had Dean on his feet and moving.

“Get him to the basement,” he commanded Chance, still watching Beau warily. “Grace, can you—?”

Grace nodded once, scooping Belle into her arms. “I got it, Dad.”

Dean didn’t spare his children another moment but was back through the door, leaving the bizarre and somewhat distressing scene behind him

What met him inside was even more bizarre.

Sam was still on the bed, still laboring, but he was no longer in his human form. 

“Sammy?” 

Dean dropped onto the bed, staring. Sam hadn’t Changed since before they were mated, and Dean had long thought he had lost the ability to do so. It was rare, but in kind of an opposite to Beau’s throwback condition, some Were’s eventually lost the ability to transform back to their wolf selves. For Sam to have done it now in the throes of his labor, Dean knew he had to be more stressed than he may ever have been before in his life, and that made Dean’s heart pound all the harder in fear.

Sam lifted his head a little, big eyes gone dark with pain, rolling down to look at Dean in confusion. Dean stretched out on his side, facing Sam and stroking his soft, thick coat near his head, moving slowly, trying to gauge how strongly instinct had a hold of Sam; but he just whined softly, butting his head in Dean’s palm, his eyes full of intelligence despite the pain, and Dean knew his brother was still in control. Though how long that would last, he wasn’t sure.

Sam gave a little yelp, and his head arched into Dean’ hand, eyes closing as he panted through another contraction that Dean could clearly see now rippling across his bare belly.

He soothed a hand down Sam’s quivering sides, cupping it against his tense, hard belly. “Hold on, baby boy. It’s going to be okay.”

——

The house went still and quiet after Grace and Chance wrangled themselves and their younger siblings out the door to school. Dean paid little attention to the goings on downstairs except to catch the cool, collected tones of his eldest daughter directing Thane and Belle and Neal, and Chance’s occasional stern voice picking up where Grace’s wasn’t enough. 

He was proud of them, stepping in and taking care of there family with such ease when they were barely into their teens themselves. They worked excellently in tandem and Dean wondered just briefly if his family would produce yet another phenomenon—this time of Alpha mates between his two eldest.

It was uncommon to birth two Alphas in the same litter and even rarer when that litter was only two pups, but that’s exactly what Sam had done. It really wouldn’t surprise Dean if Chance and Grace were meant to be together as mates, though it saddened him that they would never know the joys of pups of their own in such a case.

The silence in the house was peaceful but also a little unsettling in its completeness except when it was broken by Sam’s pained yelps or whines and then answered instantly by Beau’s from the locked basement. Dean was still trying to suss out the odd connection Beau had to Sam now, or maybe not Sam. Maybe it was the pup inside him. Either way, Dean had never heard of anything like it.

Sam whined again, weak and distressed, and Dean scooted closer to him on the bed. It was past noon and Sam was still laboring unproductively as far as Dean could tell. He was weakening and that was causing Dean to worry, not only for Sam but for their unborn pup as well. Sam would give a tentative push now and again, straining with a contraction that lasted a little longer than the others, but the urge to bear down was not there, and Sam was no closer to giving birth.

With Sam in wolf form, too, there was little Dean could do except lay with him and stay in physical contact to try and comfort him. He had considered Changing himself, but as an Alpha his wolf instincts were stronger and would take over faster,  and Dean wanted to be in full control of his faculties if everything suddenly went sideways.

The afternoon ticked on.

Sam slept a little, fitfully, still laboring, belly still tensing and releasing regularly. Voices drifted back into the house, including John’s to which Sam reacted with a whuff of relief. Grace must have called him, and Dean was glad because it always made Sam feel better to know his father was nearby, especially after John had helped Sam through his first difficult delivery. 

No one came to bother them, though Dean could hear quiet footfalls and occasional pauses outside their bedroom door of his father and eldest son and daughter checking on them. He and Sam stayed in their own little uninterrupted bubble well into the night until Sam had passed the twenty-four hour mark and suddenly gave a long, low howl and tensed under Dean’s hand.

Sam panted, whined, howled again, and curled his hindquarters in, and Dean could tell he was finally pushing. He sat up on his knees, shaky with relief, and fervently prayed things would go fast now. He ran his hands over Sam’s belly and hips, feeling under his tail for the bulge of their emerging pup as Sam tucked in harder and howled louder with another push; but there was nothing.

Sam repeated this process several times, howls getting louder, throatier, and more desperate with still no results. He collapsed back on the bed with a breathless whuff that turned into labored panting and then licked at Dean’s hand urgently before lifting himself up to lick at his straining belly and nose under his tail searching for the conspicuously absent results of his exertions.

Another contraction gripped him, and he rolled up onto all fours, squatting deeply and growling with his efforts, but there was still no sign of the pup. Dean was about to go for their father when he heard a knock on the door.

“Dean? Son? I think you better come out here.”

God bless John. Dean rolled off the bed as Sam sank deep into another push and tugged the door open.

Grace and Chance were there, standing behind John, holding between them the limp, wheezing body of their younger brother.

“What happened?” Dean demanded.

Sam whined and collapsed back on the bed behind Dean. Beau twitched at the sound in Chance’s arms but dropped back like any movement was too much effort.

“We don’t know,” Grace said. “Chance heard him fall, kind of, and went in and found him like this.”

Sam whined again from the bed, but it wasn’t in pain. When Dean turned, he found Sam trying to drag himself to the side of the mattress to reach his distressed son.

“Bring him,” Dean ordered before going back to the bed and taking Sam in his arms to soothe him.

Grace and Chance, aided by John, hefted Beau into the room and laid him across the foot of the bed, sitting down close to watch him.

“Dean, can I help?” John asked before coming too close.

Dean nodded, and John went immediately to Sam’s side, big hands roaming his hardened belly. Dean looked up questioningly, but John shook his head.

“I think it’s turned. Feels like it.”

“Then what could be wrong?” Dean’s arms tightened on Sam as he strained into another push, and John kept his hands on his belly to feel what was going on. “He’s started pushing but nothing’s happening. It’s just like before.”

“Have the contractions gotten noticeably stronger?” John asked.

Dean paused. “N-No, I guess not. They started out bad and kind of stayed that way.” Dean dipped his head to push his face into Sam’s fur as he keened again and panted through another urge to bear down. “Dad, we’ve got to do something,” he whispered, voice breaking with a fear he’d been shoving back for hours. “He can’t hold on much longer.”

John sat back on his heels. “I don’t think the contractions are strong enough.”

Sam yelped, jerked in Dean’s arms and scrabbled to lick frantically at his hindquarters before collapsing back on his side, chest and belly heaving while he tried to push.

“ _That’s_ not strong enough?” Dean asked incredulously.

At the foot of the bed, Beau struggled to belly crawl up toward his fathers, keening and whining. Chance put a hand out to stop him, but Dean waylaid him.

“Let him. It’s okay. I don’t have any idea why,” he said, running a shaking hand through his hair. “But it’s okay. I think Sam needs it. They both do.”

Beau got himself stretched out along Sam’s back and set his head over Sam’s neck. Sam whuffled contentedly, eyes fluttering shut almost as if in defeat, and Dean’s heart clutched in sudden fear. He bent to Sam’s ear and whispered fiercely,

“Don’t you give up on me, Sammy. You hold on.” His voice cracked. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

Sam heaved a pained breath in response as his body tried to push again, but he didn’t join the effort this time. He just whined and panted until it was over.

John rubbed at his jaw. “We’ve got to get this pup born. Now.” He turned on the spot, looking at Grace and then down at her hands. “Gigi, honey, I hate to ask this, but we’re out of time.”

“Wh-what?” Grace asked, voice sticking in her throat with sudden nervousness.

John scooted back and motioned her forward. “Gigi, we need to help your papa birth his pup. Your hands are small. I need you to…reach inside and _very_ gently see if you can draw the pup out.”

“What!” Grace’s face blanched.

“Dad!” Dean nearly shouted. “You can’t make her do that!”

John leaned forward, eyes fierce with painful memories, voice low and full of dangerous determination. “Dean, I am not letting my son or his pup die. We do this—now—or he does.”

Dean snarled, and nearly gnashed his teeth at John, Alpha in him chaffing at the command in his father’s tone, but another weak, pained, and defeated sounding whine from Sam stopped him.

“All right,” he agreed tightly, seething with the effort not to strike out at his father. Grace made a tiny sound in her throat, and Dean met her terrified gaze. “I know you’re scared, baby, but you can do this. It’s okay. I promise.”

She swallowed, nodded, and got up on her knees behind Sam.

“Stay on this side of him,” John instructed her, “out of the way of his feet. Chance, get ready to hold him down, but not yet.”

John re-situated himself in front of Sam, in the danger zone of all four of his paws. Should Sam suddenly lash out, he would likely slice his father open, but it was a risk John was willing to take.

“Okay,” he said to Grace. “I’m going to push the pup down and out with the next contractions. When you see him start to open up, use your fingers, spread him. If you can ease the pup out without pulling, so much the better. If not, do it gently and slowly, and work with the muscles. Right?”

Grace nodded and adjusted her position, her whole body trembling. She darted a look at Dean. He nodded to her.

“You got this, baby.”

Sam’s body tensed with a contraction and John leaned into his belly, pressing against the top curve with both hands slow and steady. Sam howled and snarled and thrashed at the new pain. Chance grabbed hold of his flailing hind paws while Dean tried to hold him from the front; but Sam in wolf form was about ten times stronger than Sam in human form even in his weakened state, and Dean’s grip slipped so that one of Sam’s claws caught him across the thigh. Before Sam could do anymore damage, Beau suddenly leaned up over him and grabbed the side of Sam’s neck in his powerful jaws.

Sam instantly dropped back, heaving.

“Dean?” John queried sharply, eyes dropping to his son’s gashed and bleeding leg.

Dean ripped off his shirt and jerked it in a tight knot around the wound to staunch the bleeding. “I’m good.” He looked at Beau who still had hold of Sam, whose eyes were rolling back in his head from the pain. “Beau?”

Beau rolled an eye up. It was calm, clear and sharp. His jaws were set firmly, but not biting down. He was only holding, not hurting.

“Leave him,” John said as another contraction had Sam yelping out.

They repeated the process of aiding Sam’s body in pushing another five times before Grace gave a little shout of triumph.

“I see it! It’s coming!” She leaned forward, framing her small hands around Sam’s now bulging opening.

“Use your fingers, Grace. Help him stretch so the pup can come. Ease him open,” John directed, still keeping constant pressure on Sam’s belly with the contractions.

“O-Okay.” Grace gingerly rubbed her thumbs around the straining skin. Sam let out a deep groan and she jumped back.

“It’s okay, Gigi,” Dean assured her. “We’ve got him. You’re doing good. It’s going to help him. Promise. Keep going, baby.”

Grace swallowed and leaned in again, using a little more pressure and surer strokes to smooth the stretched skin back.

They helped Sam through four more contractions, but the pup wasn’t moving any further forward.

“What do I do?” Grace asked nervously.

“Slide your fingers in—just two at first—find the pup’s head and ease your fingers past it. See if you can get it to come forward just by opening him up,” John said.

On the next push, Grace did as she was instructed and the pup’s head breached Sam’s opening.

“Oh my God…” Grace gasped, eyes wide.

Sam was trembling all over, too tired to aid in his own pushes anymore, and whining constantly in pain as his family worked to help him deliver his pup.

“Grace?”

Grace gulped a breath. “It’s coming! The head is coming. Just—just another couple of pushes, I think….”

John worked with the contractions and Grace’s nimble fingers eased Sam’s opening wider to let the pup pass through, while Dean sat at Sam’s head stroking and whispering encouragingly to him.

“Dad…? Dad!” Grace cried out.

Sam gave a long, terrifyingly loud howl of pain, and Dean jumped to the end of the bed just as the pup slid from Sam’s body into Grace’s shaking hands. He cupped his daughter’s hands, helping her hold the wet little body that was too still and too quiet.

“Dad?” Grace asked tremulously, aware that something wasn’t right.

“No…no, no, no,” Dean whispered, taking the pup and rubbing it down vigorously with a clean towel. He felt sick with the memory of his father holding another small, unresponsive pup years ago, and choked out, “Breathe, baby. Please breathe.” He cuddled the pup in close, still rubbing and massaging its small chest and throat, urging it to take a breath. “Please! God, don’t do this too him again,” he begged. _He won’t survive this. Sammy, won’t survive this, if you die all over again._

Sam let out another low howl, but it changed register at the end and suddenly Sam was human again, stretched on the bed, naked, sweaty, thighs stained with fluids and blood, chest shuddering with his excursions of the last several hours.

“Dean?” Sam asked weakly, holding out his arms, wanting to take his pup to his breast.

Dean’s eyes were streaming. He could barely see as he moved to the head of the bed, still rubbing at the unresponsive little body in his hands. Sam’s eyes filled and spilled over as the realization dawned that his pup still hadn’t made a sound, hadn’t taken a breath. 

“No…Dean? Please, no. God, no….” Sam reached again, and Dean let him have the small, lifeless body, hoping against hope that some kind of magic would happen between father and child; but the pup still didn’t breathe. Sam cuddled it close, sobbing, tears rewetting its soft fur.

“Sam, I….” Dean’s throat locked up and all he could do was sit on his knees and watch his brother sob over the body of their pup.

Beau raised up from the side of the bed and pressed his nose against the bundle in Sam’s arms. Sam looped an arm around his neck and turned his face into Beau’s ruff. The wolf inched forward, nosing into the bundle until he could whuffle a breath over its tiny face, then he licked at it, long and slow, breathed again, nosing urgently, and repeated the whole sequence once more.

“Beau, don’t,” Dean whispered brokenly. “You can’t—.”

A tiny squeak issued from the pup.

Sam gasped, and Dean held his breath. Beau nosed again at the pup, licked its face and elicited another, stronger, angry squeak and an impatient wriggle.

“Jesus…” Dean breathed as Sam lifted the little pup up near his breast and gasped as it latched on and sucked hungrily.

Beau sat back on his haunches with a satisfied snort, and the bed bounced a little as Grace tumbled, exhausted and stunned, back into Chance’s arms, laughing and sobbing all at once. John was the only one with enough of his faculties left intact to find a blanket and drape it over Sam and start tending to the clean up.

Dean maneuvered down the bed to put an arm behind Sam’s shoulders and pulled him close, kissing every part of him he could reach before dropping his cheek to rest on Sam’s hair.

“What is it?” he asked quietly.

Sam huffed an astonished laugh that they had not even checked the pup’s sex yet, and pulled away the blanket enough to get a good look at his new daughter.

“Girl. And she’s perfect,” he answered.

“Of course, she’s perfect,” Dean said, kissing the top of Sam’s head. “She came from you.”

Sam blushed and pressed deeper into Dean’s arms while he stroked his daughter’s velvety head as she continued to suckle as his breast. He looked over at Beau who was watching the three of them with interest, the pup especially.

“And I think she has her own guardian angel for life,” Sam said.

“I think you’re right,” Dean agreed, reaching to scratch at Beau’s ears.

“Papa?”

Sam looked down the bed at Grace who was still huddled in her brother’s embrace. He held out his free arm to her and she rushed into his and Dean’s embrace. Sam kissed her hair.

“Sweetie-bug, I’m so sorry we had to put you through that,” he whispered to her.

“I-I’m just glad you’re okay,” Grace choked out. “Both of you.”

Dean cupped the back of her head and kissed her temple. “You did good, baby girl. Thank you. So much.”

Grace nodded, sat back and wiped at her eyes.

“Okay, come on, troops,” John said in a no-nonsense tone, but still gently. “Your papa and dad need about twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep, so we need to get out of their hair.”

Chance pulled Grace off the bed, holding her steady as they crossed the floor to the door. Beau was a little harder to convince, but Sam gave him another long look at the still greedily feeding pup and John gave him a firm tug on his scruff and he finally went.

“Dean, I want to look at your leg before you go to sleep,” John said.

Dean nodded. “Thanks, Dad. For everything.”

John paused at the door, smiling fondly. “’S what I’m here for, son.”

When John was gone, Sam looked down at the bloody shirt wrapped around Dean’s thigh. He frowned deeply. “Dean, did I do that?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. It’s not deep.”

“God, Dean, I’m sorry.”

Dean brushed at this brother’s mussed hair. “Sammy, you couldn’t help it. You were…having a real tough go of it.”

Dean’s voice cracked at the end and Sam looked up at him. “Dean?”

Dean just looked at Sam for a long moment before more silent tears began to drip down his cheeks. He pulled in a shallow, shaking breath. “I thought I was going to lose you, baby boy. I really did, and that—that would have killed me.”

“Oh, Dean….”

Sam pulled Dean’s head down and held him tight for several minutes until his breathing had steadied and their pup was mewling impatiently for more milk.

“Hungry little thing,” Dean said, swiping at his eyes and watching Sam tenderly shift her to his other breast. “What are we going to name her, Sam?”

“I hadn’t really thought,” Sam said. He stroked his daughter’s ear and chucked her softly under the chin. “What shall we call you little girl?”

Just then the pup stopped her sucking and opened her eyes.

Sam gasped. The pup blinked at him, slowly, brilliant blue-green eyes shining with intelligence.

“Sam?”

Sam felt his heart stop in his chest for a handful of beats. He knew those eyes. He’d never seen them before, but he knew them. The last time he had not gotten a chance to look at them, and he nearly didn’t this time either.

“Mira…?”

“Sam?” Dean frowned with worry.

Sam tucked his daughter closer in to his chest, planted a kiss on her head. “Hello, Mira. It’s good to see you again,” he said.

The pup gave a little chortle of happiness and went back to suckling at Sam’s breast.

Dean’s stomach dropped in shock. “Sam, you don’t think…?”

“I know,” Sam whispered. “It’s her, Dean.”

“Oh my God.” Dean grabbed Sam hard and held him close, cupped his palm around Mira’s small head. “Oh my God,” he said again. “Sam, it’s….” 

“A miracle?” Sam finished, wiping away his own quiet tears. “We got her back, Dean. We really got her back.”

Dean closed his arms around his mate and new pup and pressed his face into Sam’s neck.

“I love you, Sam. Always. You’re mine. You are _all_ mine. And I’m going to take care of _all_ of you until there isn’t a breath left in my body.”

Sam couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat. The only thing he could do was turn in his brother’s arms and, with a deep, slow kiss that tasted of salty tears and long years to come, he promised Dean exactly the same.


End file.
